Free New Title 1 by Shaun Jeffrey Page B

different. As though it sensed her fear, the walls closed in; the ceiling pressed down. The effect made her feel claustrophobic and she ran out of the front door to breathe in a deep lungful of fresh air. She walked to the bottom of the garden and looked back at the house. The lights she had switched on illuminated the windows with a crystal veneer, a facade for the hollowness that lay within. When she had company, the house felt warm and inviting, but now, it seemed cold, aged with secrets. She knew houses had a character of their own, the walls imbued with the identity of who lived in them, but this one seemed to have a Jekyll and Hyde character.
    A thought occurred to her, and she went back into the house and up to her bedroom. She rummaged through her handbag until she found her mobile phone, noticed a text message waiting for her, but there was still no signal available to make calls. Chase frowned. Accessing the message she read:
    Chase. Moon showed up. Told me I had the chance to leave, so I took it. Didn’t want to wake you. Be in touch, Jane x
    Chase read the message several times. It didn’t seem right, the syntax all wrong. Jane never wasted time spelling all of the words out properly. It should have read something like:
    Chs . Moon shwd up. 2ld me Id th chnc 2 lev , so I hv . Dnt wnt 2 wke u. B in tuch , Jne .
    Jane’s text messages were usually such a cryptic nightmare you needed the Enigma machine to decode them. This just wasn’t right.
    “Damn it. Jane, where are you?” A seed of fear sprouted in her gut, and her heart beat rapidly. She bit her thumbnail, thinking. After a moment she grabbed a green parka jacket from the hallway and left the house.
    Clouds shrouded the moon, the darkness pressing down. As she walked along the lane, something rustled in the hedge and her heart skipped a beat. Occasional streetlights lit her way, and as she approached one, her shadow crept up behind her like a stalker.
    The night felt oppressive, made her feel vulnerable and exposed. Her footsteps seemed unnaturally loud, echoing. She wondered why the night amplified sound, why the dark became a stage for the minds invention. She quickened her pace. The houses on the hill were in darkness; she could almost believe she was the only resident of Paradise . Perhaps Jane was not the only one to have left.
    At the bottom of the lane, she headed toward the pub. The sign outside creaked as the breeze played it. The Slaughtered Dog. Slaughter Hill. The names seemed out of place in Paradise .
    A single light burned in the porch, circled by moths like the dark droplets of a macabre chandelier. She heard the beat of their wings as they flitted around the bulb, a papery, dried leaf cadence. She nervously opened the door and walked inside.
    The dimly lit interior made her squint; darkness crouched in the corners of the room. The optics behind the bar glinted with the reflections of the dim, nicotine stained lighting. Round wooden tables sprouted from the wooden floor like bizarre mushrooms in an Alice in Wonderland pastiche. Chase licked her lips and walked toward the bar. She sensed more than saw that people were sitting silently in the corners of the room, hidden in the shadows. She felt their eyes, watching her and she swallowed, trying to wet her dry throat. What am I afraid of? she wondered.
    A man with a heavyset face and bushy eyebrows shading small, beady eyes sat behind the bar. His thin hair appeared lifeless and greasy, his checked shirt stained with something that resembled blood, but which was more likely tomato sauce. He stood up as she approached and she noticed him limp slightly as he ambled down the bar to where she stood.
    “What can I get you?” he grunted.
    “Hello, I’m looking for ...”
    “Miss Black, how nice to see you again.”
    Chase turned to see Moon standing behind her. He wore a cocksure smile like a mask. She hadn’t heard him enter so she assumed he had already been in the bar, hiding in the